


Assistant to a Consulting Detective

by XanadriaBaggins (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, None - Freeform, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1432261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/XanadriaBaggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hello, my name is Zoë- it's short for Xanadria. I don't sound British? Well, I won't kid you, I'm not. Why am I in England? I guess you could say employment. And before you ask, I'm employed by Sherlock Holmes. I got the job easily enough. It's keeping my sanity I'm worrying about. After all, between my best friend being crazy, cases, filling, dealing with John's rantings, my family's nosiness, and my work, I have no room for a personal life, and absolutely no room for romance- which is why I turn down every guy who asks me out. And if they get to persistent, I knock them out with a well placed, (and gentle,) nudge. In other words, pressure points. And if they're immune to that, I knock them into a wall.<br/>Think that's interesting? My jobs to assist Sherlock Holmes in all of his cases, experiments, and anything and everything he asks me to do. Sounds interesting? You don't know the half of it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assistant to a Consulting Detective

Outfit= http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=118637142 

Zoë's Pov

I knocked on the door to 221b and a frail yet cheery older woman opened it. "Hello dear," she said kindly, "may I help you?" She asked.  
I smiled. "I believe you can, actually. I'm here about the job opportunity, the, full time assistant?"  
She smiled. "Come inside, deary, I'll show you where to go."  
"Thanks," I said coming inside.  
"I'm Mrs Hudson," she said.  
"My name is Zoë, Zoë Aubrey." I answered, "Zoë is short for Xanadria."  
"A very pretty name she said, "who named you?" She asked leading me upstairs.  
"My grandmother. My parents couldn't agree on anything."  
She chuckled as she knocked on a door. "Sherlock," she said, "there's an applicant out here to see you about the job."  
The door opened to reveal a tall man with eyes and hair like mine, only rather than having baby fat from when he was four on his face, he had cheekbones that would bruise your hands if you where to punch him. He nodded at Mrs Hudson. "Thank you," he said opening the door wider, "come in." He said calmly.  
"Thanks," I said obeying.  
When I came in, he shut the door and I noticed a shorter blonde man with bright sky blue eyes and jumper. He looked up and smiled. "Hi," he said getting up and coming over with an extended hand, "John Watson- I'm Sherlock's flat mate."  
I smiled and shook his hand. "Pleasure."  
"John, take a note," said Sherlock coming over. John nodded and sat down wordlessly next to a laptop. Sherlock stared me dead in the eyes. "You can take off your coat, scarf, and messenger bag, rack's over there." "Thanks," I said, walking over to the coat rack and hanging up the items. He started circling me like a vulture. "What's in the bag?" He asked.  
"One hand gun, three rounds of ammo, art and writing supplies, and one pocket knife."  
He nodded and circled me. "Very good. Professions and education?"  
"I have been a scholar, a private detective, a writer, an artist, a scientist, a nurse, and an art teacher. I went to school at Naropa University, and graduated at age fifteen with PhDs in art, language, writing, and natural science."  
He nodded and circled me. "And you are American?"  
"Yes sir."  
"And your family background?"  
"I grew up in a stable home. My dad was in the navy for twenty years, and retired when I was in the second grade. My mom raised me with help of my god parents and the rest of my church in Washington State."  
Which state is that?" He asked.  
"It's the one to the top left, second up, and right in the American-Canadian border."  
He nodded. "Continue."  
I nodded. "I lived there till I was seven, and then we moved to Colorado, which is in the middle if the country. I moved back to Washington State when I was eighteen. I moved here a few months ago."  
He nodded. "And why did you moved to England?"  
"I was getting tired of the same scene, so to say, and moved here because of the similar weather and rich history."  
"No family ties?" "No, sir." "Explain."  
"All my extended family lives in Scandinavia, France, Ireland, or Greece. Greece was too sunny. I don't speak French, so that was out if the question. Ireland would have been good, but that part of the family is a bit too rowdy for my taste. Scandinavia was just too cold, and I don't speak Scandinavian- that would make me feel like a tourist-and as someone from a tourist heavy area, that's bit exactly the best thing."  
He nodded. "Very good. And self defense classes?"  
"Yes. I am a black belt in karate, an expert in Brazilian jiu jitsu, fairly decent at hand to hand combat, fairly good at boxing, several classes on fire arm safety, and as weird as this may sound, I have taken classes in archery, fencing, mid evil jousting, mid evil sword play, and daggar fighting."  
John, who had been dead silent the entire time, now looked at me rather surprised. "Really?" he said, "I wouldn't think you had the build for hand to hand."  
I shrugged. "Looks can be deciding."  
Sherlock chuckled. "Actually, those sound like very interesting classes. Now why are you being so honest?"  
I shrugged. "It's a job interview. I wouldn't want a possible employer to think I could do something I really couldn't do for the life of me." I took a deep breath. "And besides- I don't like lying."  
He clapped his hands together once. "Well that just about does it. You're hired. You'll start immediately, and you'll be moving into apartment 221c, the one next to John and mine. Is that suitable?"  
I smiled mildly, trying to mask my joy at finally getting a job that was suitable. "Perfect."  
He smiled briefly, and went over to a table and grabbed a piece of paper. He handed it to me, and I read it. "Just the contract to prove you're working for me, and that I'm not responsible for any on-the-job injures."  
I shrugged. "All reasonable." I raised an eyebrow as I saw some of the risks. I uttered them aloud. "…will not be responsible for injuries caused from fire arms, knives, mid evil torture devices," I glanced up at him- he smile;ed innocently, "laceration, incineration," I looked up at him surprised. He shrugged. "I have ha weird job."  
I shrugged nonchalantly. I went back to reading. "Other forms of bodily harm will not be held against the employer/s, and the assailant and/or victim can and may be held responsible for any/all injuries." I looked at him. "Sounds like my kind of job."  
He grinned boyishly. "Good."  
Just as I took out a pen to sign the contract, there was a knock at the door. "Who could that be?" asked John.  
"Don't be daft, John, there's only one person Mrs Hudson would let up unannounced." he looked at the door and sat down on an empty armchair. "Come in," he said.  
he door knob turned. The door cracked open. The door opened slowly. Little did I know, but my life would never be the same again...


End file.
